Proposals

Mistaking me for someone else, he asked me to marry him. This has
happened more than once. The first time, I was eighteen and the boy had
a diamond ring in a box. It was the Fourth of July, it was dark, he said, Happy
Independence Day. Of course, the ring was too large and slipped right off
my finger into the grass. (It belonged to someone else: the woman he
married, eventually.) And when I was twenty-one, that redhead, sloe-eyed
and slinking out of his grief, said he'd imagined I'd be his wife. But he was
mistaken. It wasn't me. Then a drunk who drove too fast, who threw the
proposal over his shoulder like some glittering, tattered scarf. I staggered
out of his car, saying, No thanks, No thanks, No thanks. And the man over
eggs one morning, in the midst of an argument, saying he planned to wait
for spring to ask for my hand, then he never asked. (So of course, I married
that one for a while; spent years convincing him I was not his cup of coffee,
not his girl.) And in Prague, on a bridge called the Karlův Most, a stranger,
a refugee, who mistook the way I stared at the river for thinking of suicide.
Who mistook my American passport for his ticket out of there. And
others-the man whose children grabbed the food off my plate, called me
her; the man in Chartres Cathedral humming the wedding march into my
ear. And tonight, at dinner with friends, happy, discussing their wedding
plans, a man I've known for a couple of hours turning to ask me to marry
him. I don't know who they think I am. Do I look like a bride in these rags
of wind? Do I look like the angel of home and hearth with this strange green
fire in my hands?

by Cecilia Woloch, from Late

White Bean and Sage Spread

Man (and woman) doth not live by bread alone, he (and she) must have spreads...

Serve with veggies, crusty bread, or as a savory topper

INGREDIENTS:
1 - 15 ounce can of cannellini beans
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1 tablespoon water
1/2 teaspoon minced, fresh sage
1 garlic clove
1/4 teaspoon salt
dash of cayenne pepper or freshly ground black pepper

DIRECTIONS:
1. Put it all in a blender and pulse until smooth. Eat up!

*** Sage is not just an adjective we use to describe Yoda or other wrinkled creatures known for their spirituality and spare speech. Sage is also an evergreen shrub whose leaves are used as an herb.
** Salvia, the latin name for sage, means “to heal". Although many contend the effectiveness of Common Sage as a cure all, throughout history it has been prescribed for nearly every ailment. Recently, in a double blind and placebo-controlled trial, sage was found to be effective in the management of mild to moderate Alzheimer's disease. I haven't researched the specifics, so I couldn't tell you if they ingested the essential oil or if they did as all good hippies and Topanga-dwellers do and waved burning sage around themselves. I've tried it before: it's like good-vibes insurance and it's probably better for you than a couple of bong hits.

Recipe by Cristina Paul

Blah-Blah-Blahg: Food For Nought

Cool stuff that I've been doing that you might want to do too:

First, watch these videos and any other video on YouTube that features Philip Hansen



Second, the human race has invented many ridiculous things like Mr Potato Head, French Toast sticks, doga (yoga for dogs), Edible Bouquets (more hideous than ridiculous), and any and all Japanese gameshows. I do think, though, that I have participated in one of its most preposterously FUUUUUUUUUN inventions to date: Yoga Booty Ballet. Just saying it makes me feel as if I were caught commiting a harmless but embarrasing crime - like peeing in public. Exercise has never been such fun. Imagine step-aerobics, a Michael Jackson dance video circa 1988, a tribal drum circle, and jazz hands fluttering across your "chalice" (the instructor used that word) - that's what it's like. TREMENDOUS!!! Males, do not be shy. There were two men in the class I recently attended - albeit one of them was playing drums, but the other was an enthused participant (and I have an abiding conviction that both were straight).

Recollection of Tranquility

The first time we ever quarreled
you were cutting an onion
in the kitchen of our rented cottage.
I remember vividly. We were making creole
for a late night supper with champagne,
and you were taking it seemed forever
to cut the onion.
Each time your dull paring knife
chopped on the counter, I shifted my feet,
and I saw once in a glimpse over my shoulder
a white wedge of onion wobbling loose.
I sighed inaudibly. The butter I stirred
had already bubbled and browned.
I was starting over with a new yellow lump
that was slipping on the silver aluminum
when you brought, cupped in your hands,
the broken pieces, the edges all ragged,
the layers separated, bruised and oozing
cloudy white onion juice.
I complained:
the family recipe stated specifically,
the onion must be "finely chopped,"
for what I explained were very good reasons.
Otherwise, the pungent flavors would be trapped
irrevocably in the collapsed cellular structure
of the delicate root.

You sighed, I guess, inaudibly
and adjusted your glasses carefully
with two fingers (a fidget
I have since come to know
as a sign of mild perturbation)
and explained:
the pungence of onions too finely chopped
would be simmered away. The original sharp
burning crispness could be retained
only in fairly large, bite-sized chunks.
But you wouldn't fight tradition.
I chopped onion on the counter
with the dull knife, while you set the table
and figured the best way of popping the cork.

by Idris Anderson from Mrs. Ramsay's Knee

White Chocolate Butterscotch Cookies

Makes about 2 dozen






INGREDIENTS:
1 3/4 cup all purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt
8 tablespoons unsalted butter, at room temperature
1/2 cup vegetable shortening, at room temperature
1 1/4 cup packed dark brown sugar
1 large egg plus 1 egg yolk
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
1 ¼ cup chopped (¼- inch pieces) good quality white chocolate

DIRECTIONS:
1. Adjust oven racks to upper middle and lower middle positions. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper.
2. In a medium bowl, whisk together the dry ingredients.
3. In the bowl of an electric mixer, beat the butter, shortening, and brown sugar on high speed until light and fluffy, about 3 minutes, scraping down the sides of the bowl when necessary. Beat in the egg, yolk, and vanilla until just combined.
4. With mixer on low speed, add the flour mixture in two batches, beating until just combined. Stir in the white chocolate by hand.
5. Each cookie should be 2 tablespoons of dough. Place them 2 inches apart on the prepared baking sheets. Bake, rotating the sheets halfway through, until slightly golden brown around the edges, about 14 minutes. Cool the cookies for 2 minutes on the sheets and then transfer to wire racks. Cookies will keep for up to 4 days in an airtight container.

***Tear up a piece of sliced bread and place in the cookie jar or container that you are keeping these cookies. The bread will help the cookies maintain a just-baked chewiness.
**White chocolate is not truly chocolate because it does not contain chocolate liquor. *White chocolate was first introduced in 1956 and, since then, the U.S. has regulated what can be marketed as “white chocolate”. White chocolate in the U.S. must contain at least 20% cocoa butter by weight. Other ingredients in this confection include sugar and milk solids – don’t ask me what those milk solids are.

Recipe by Cristina Paul

Blah-Blah-Blahg: Food For Nought

THIS LAWN IS YOUR LAWN

Talk of victory lawns is springing up everywhere, from the LA Times to... Pennsylvania Avenue? Watch this neat video.

Denmark, Kangaroo, Orange

 
Pick a number from one to ten. Okay, now multiply that number
by nine. You will have a two-digit number. Add those two digits.
Now subtract five from that number. Take that number and find
its corresponding letter in the alphabet (1=A, 2=B, etc.). Now
think of a country that begins with that letter. Now name an
animal that begins with the last letter of the country. Finally, name
a fruit that begins with the last letter of that animal.

by Kevin Griffith from Denmark, Kangaroo, Orange